Editor's
Note - Isaac M. Cline is most famous for his actions as Meteorologist
in Charge of Galveston, Texas, during the Great Hurricane
of 1900. However, Mr. Cline provided considerable information
regarding his experiences in the Signal Service beginning
in 1882. Excerpts from Isaac's book, Storms, Floods and
Sunshine are presented below.

Washington,
D.C. was to me the most important place in the world. I arrived
early on the morning of July 6, 1882, and got off the train
at the depot where President James A. Garfield had been assassinated
the previous year. The first thing I saw was the spot and
marker where he had fallen and from which he was carried away
to die a few days later.

Hotel accomodations
were secured near the Office of the Chief Signal Office. I
rested during the 6th, and as this was the first
time I had ever been in a large city, I was afraid to wander
out of sight of the hotel. Promptly on the morning of July
7th, I reported to the Chief Signal Officer for
the physical examination. Three other young men reported at
the same time, and we were accepted for instruction in the
duties of weather observer. The four of us were taken in a
two-horse spring wagon up through Georgetown, across the Potomac
over the Georgetown bridge, and up through the ridges to Fort
Myer.

Fort Myer
was named for Brigadier General Albert J. Myer. He was graduated
in medicine in 1851, was appointed Assistant Surgeon in the
U.S. Army in 1854, and assigned to duty in Texas. His spare
time was devoted to devising a system of military signalling
by use of flags by day and torches at night. He was appointed
to the command of the Signal Corps, U.S. Army, 1858 - 1860,
and was named Chief Signal Officer in 1860. He organized the
United States weather service as part of the Signal Corps.
The first systematic simultaneous weather observations were
collected under his direction by telegraph from 24 stations
at 7:45 a.m. November 1, 1870.

First Sergeant
Mahaney, a veteran of the War Between the States and a fine
man, took charge of us on our arrival at Fort Myer. We were
fitted out with uniforms and assigned to our rooms in the
barracks. Each room had four single beds and thus accomodated
four men. There were 30 men in our class but 5 or 6 of the
preceding class were retained to help us get started.

Military
training in infantry and cavalry tactics formed part of our
instruction. The Signal Corps was a cavalry organization and
we had lessons in horsemanship. When we went on cavalry drill,
we had to groom, bridle, saddle, and care for our mounts and
return them clean and nice to their stalls. Some of the men
from large cities had never ridden horseback; these men would
become badly frightened when we raced around the drill grounds.
Some of them would lean forward and put their arms around
the necks of the horses, incurring the wrath of Sergeant Mahaney.

Military
discipline was such as would impress us with our duties. Our
equipment consisted of carbines and cavalry sabres, which
we were required to keep in immaculate condition. Inspection
was held regularly, and if our buttons were not polished and
our shoes shined, including the heels, or if a speck of rust
or dirt was found on our equipment, our week-end leave was
cancelled.

Instruction
was given in military signaling with flags, torches and the
heliograph, and also in the mechanism and operation of the
magnetic telegraph and the telephone. We overhauled telegraph
apparatus to learn what caused the "click," and strung wires
over which that click would be heard thousands of miles distant.

Subjects
bearing on meteorology, the taking and recording of meteorological
observations and the uses to which they could be applied called
for study every minute of our time. Good progress in studies
meant early assignment as assistant observer on some station,
and this was our immediate objective. The instruction was
crammed into us so rapidly that many could not keep up and
make the required grades. Such distinguished physicists and
mathematics as William Ferrel, T. C. Mendenhal, and Cleveland
Abbe were among our instructors.

Stations
for observing the weather were being opened in different parts
of the country. Assistants who had made good records on stations
were selected to take charge of the new stations. To meet
the demand for assistants at stations, a rigid examination
was held. The 16 passing with the highest grades were to be
assigned to stations and the others were to remain for further
instruction. I passed 16th and was notified that
I would be assigned to the Little Rock, Arkansas, weather
station where I would have an opportunity to study the influence
of weather conditions on the development and movements of
the Rocky Mountain locust.

I was 21
years old when I was assigned to Little Rock. Orders were
received, and the government furnished railroad transportation,
as well as an allowance for en-route meals. I had no sleeping
accomodations so an army blanket was swung between two seats
to make a hammock. The salary and allowances for the assignment
amounted to $60 a month. Medical services were to be paid
by the government when no Army Surgeon was available. In addition,
there was an allowance for clothing, which amounted to about
$120 a year.

The weather
observation station at Little Rock was in charge of Sergeant
William U. Simmons. The office occupied quarters in the Logan
H. Roots Bank Building. A room in the same building, near
the office, was available for my use. This proved to be advantageous,
as no time was lost going to and from the office. Observations
were taken frequently in those days; the first at 5 AM and
the latest at 11 PM. My detail opened and closed the work
for the day. The official in charge took the observations
during the day. Special weather reports were collected during
the crop growing season for agricultural interests. Railroad
Station Agents telegraphed reports of temperature and rainfall
at 5 PM daily. A telegraph instrument in the weather office
was connected with the railroad wires and I took the reports
as they came in and prepared bulletins for the commercial
interests.

The Medical
Department of the University of Arkansas was located at Little
Rock just three blocks from the office of the weather service.
It offered a three-year course and was rated as one of the
best medical schools in the country at that time. In my opinion,
the field of medical meteorology was a field in which there
had been little research; consequently, I enrolled in the
medical course and received the diploma making me an M.D.
in 1885.

Subsequently,
orders were received directing me to proceed to Fort Concho,
Texas (near San Angelo), to take charge of the station and
complete the transfer of remnants of the military telegraph
lines. The assignment increased my pay to $75 a month. Transportation
was by railroad from Little Rock to Abilene, and thence by
Rocky Mountain Stage Coach the 100 miles from Abilene to Fort
Concho. I looked over the latest Rand McNally Railroad Map
and there was no Abilene, Texas, to be found. Consultation
with the railroad ticket agent revealed that Abilene was a
new town which had grown up like a mushroom over night. It
was the center of a large and rich cattle industry.

Trains
did not run on regular schedules in those days, especially
over newly built roadways. Heavy rains had fallen over western
Texas, and many of the bridges over the small streams had
washed out. We were frequently delayed until repair trains
could come and rebuild the bridges, or replace a washed-out
stretch of track. Abilene came in sight late in the afternoon,
and the first thing I noticed was a large congregation of
cowboys with their high boots, large spurs, big hats, and
with pistols in holsters hanging from their belts. The stagecoach
was not due to leave until the following morning, and the
thought of remaining in Abilene all night with such a fierce
looking crowd of cowboys was anything but pleasant. I could
not get a room in the hotel, but the railroad agent, to whom
I carried a letter of introduction, got me a room for the
night over a nearby saloon. When I reached the saloon, a porter
was washing blood off the sidewalk as a result of four cowboys
being killed in a gun fight. My head did not rest easy that
night; the tramp of cowboys and the shooting of pistols made
it a night of suspense.

Morning
finally came, bright with cheerful sunshine which portended
a pleasant journey over the plains. The stagecoach, four in
hand, pulled up at the depot. Four passengers were waiting,
all bound for a through trip.

We were
scheduled to reach Fort Concho (San Angelo) late that afternoon,
but a stream which under ordinary conditions could be forded
by the stagecoach, was swollen by a flood when we reached
it, and we could not cross. The driver informed us that we
would have to spend the night there, and wait for the stagecoach
which would come in from San Angelo the next morning. Then
we, with our luggage, would be ferried across the stream in
a skiff kept for such emergencies. We had eaten supper at
the stage station about 10 miles back, the nearest habitation,
but there were no accomodations for passengers at the river
side.

One of
the four passengers was a woman, and we let her sleep in the
coach. The rest of us slept on the ground. About midnight
I was frightened by a rattlesnake to the point that I ran
and jumped on top of the stagecoach and scared the woman into
hysterics. She thought the Indians, who appeared in that neighborhood
sometimes, had attacked us. I remained on the coach until
morning.

Soon after
daybreak, the stagecoach from San Angelo appeared on the opposite
side of the stream. We were ferried across in the skiff and
were soon on our way to Fort Concho.

Fort Concho,
Texas, was on the fringe of a region marked on the maps of
that time as the "Great American Desert." The headquarters
for that section of the United States Military Telegraph,
was located at Fort Concho. Telegraph lines had connected
the military posts of that region and formed part of the strategy
for combatting the Indians. In addition to my duties as weather
observer, I had to complete the transfer of the telegraph
equipment to the telephone company or to United States military
posts on the Mexican border. A cottage located near the Fort
Concho reservation was occupied as the weather observation
station and sleeping quarters. I took my meals at the hotel
in the new town of San Angelo. Weather observations which
were telegraphed three times daily to Washington, D.C., were
filed with the telegraph office in San Angelo. I
subsequently was transferred from Fort Concho to Abilene,
and in 1889, to Galveston, Texas. On July 1, 1891, weather
services of the Signal Service were transferred to the Department
of Agriculture and the name of the new agency became the Weather
Bureau.

San
Angelo, Texas, in the foreground and Fort Concho in the background
(1886). Population of San Angelo in 1886 was approximately 50
to 100 people. By 1925, the population of San Angelo had increased
to near 14,000.